


The Enemies Within

by MohnblumenKind



Series: the White Eagle and the White Knight [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Desperation, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Hurt and not much comfort, Lots of Angst, Paranoia, Partitions of Poland, Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Polish-Lithuanian War, Politics, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MohnblumenKind/pseuds/MohnblumenKind
Summary: Poland in the interwar period. He is torn between victories and defeat, freedom, joy and desperation. His struggle to stand on his own feet after more than a century leads to pain and paranoia. Here are some glimpses of this.





	The Enemies Within

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Antisemitism, I guess? And paranoia. Lots of both. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or insult anyone (especially Polish history), I just tried to write about what I understood in historic research papers.  
> I added "Unrequited Love" to the tags. That's not how I usually think their relationship is going neither in this series nor in general, but this is about the interwar period and from Poland's point of view that tag is somehow true here.
> 
> Characters: Sadly not that much Lithuania in here. But Dmowski and Piłsudski are in this fic as well. They are not really OC since they did exist, but while I know about their political agenda, I have no idea how they spoke or acted in a private conversation, so I tried my best. 
> 
> This piece is quite experimental. It centers around Poland during the interwar period. Basically he is getting more paranoid as time goes by. Partly justified (we all know what happened in 1939) and partly he gets more and more frightened by his own minorities. At least that’s my impression from historic research and sources. I tried to show this in my writing style. It was quite hard to write since I don’t agree with a lot of what Poland thinks and paranoia is nothing that I am familiar with.  
> So be cautious since this is his point of view, I personally think he is either down-playing or overestimating the dangers or actions of others and himself.
> 
> Historic explanations at the end of the fic.  
> Enjoy!

Vilnius, 10th April 1919

* * *

  
Poland hadn’t seen Lithuania for more than a hundred years. Even now while the blond stood in Wilno with his loyal army Lithuania had not appeared. Poland longed for him so much, his heart had to burst any minute. But he understood: Fighting a war against Russia meant that the other nation would not have spare time for a meeting or even a small talk. Still, it felt good to fight alongside Lithuania's troops against a common enemy. As soon as they would meet, he would convince his former husband to be together again, to form an union.

  


Versailles, Paris Peace Conference, 28th June 1919

* * *

  
Poland shook his head forcefully, his hands in fists, knuckles white. He was furious and he intended to let them know.  
“It is a disgrace!” he hissed, his voice clearly showing his anger.  
“I have, like, a history of tolerance and acceptance, this Minority Treaty is an immense offense!”  
“Well, you don't have a quite long history of your own policy,” England said quietly. He did not mean to offend the smaller nation, but had the feeling to intervene. It did not turn out better. The blond looked at him with narrowed eyes, ready to fight. He had been known to be a safe place for the Jews in the middle ages, when England and France just had thrown them out of their country and the German countries had either prosecuted or killed them or had pressed money of them. _He_ had been the one welcoming the Jews that fled. _He_ had cared for them, had given them a home. _They_ had no right to doubt his tolerance now!  
Before he could express his anger, Italy's small voice was audible “We've heard a lot about the pogroms in your cities,” the so often smiling nation stated, now with eyes big and sad.  
Poland immediately glared at him.  
“That press articles are not true! They are _lies_!” he spat. Before someone else could interject, America coughed. Everyone turned to him. Since his fourteen points he did not interrupted them much, already planing to start to isolate himself from the chaos Europe always fabricated. Him speaking up now startled everyone.  
“I've asked this Morgentau dude, he said that the international press is exaggerating. There haven’t been that many Jews killed on Polish land and he said that the Jews were not killed because of their religion anyway, but because they have acted against the Polish troops,” he clarified.  
“Exactly!” Poland exclaimed. That had been _exactly_ the point! The Jews had attacked his brave soldiers, had acted pro-Ukrainian or were Bolshevist in the wars. They endangered his children and himself. Of course his soldiers had acted accordingly and some Jews were killed in the process. He would not yield to an enemy inside.  
“And this Minority Treaty is, like, a severe disregard of my sovereignty!” he continued. “I am a country now, there is totally no way I accept your intrusion in my personal affairs.” Besides, he knew that Germany did not have to sign this damn treaty, and when he knew someone who severely mistreated minorities it was Germany's brother. And that fiend had way too much influence on his little brother anyway.  
“And what's about the blood libel cases?” France interjected. There had been cases where Polish citizens had rioted against their fellow Jewish citizens because they had thought them to kill Christian boys for magic rituals. The classical middle age denunciation. It had shocked everyone that modern day societies would act on that kind of religious superstition.  
“I know you don't like this and I am sorry Poland, but you have one-third minorities, you need to promise to protect them!” France continued.  
“I am!” Poland affirmed at once, ignoring the first accusation. There had been war and a lot of chaos. He would not let himself being forced to explain any and all wrongs that any Pole had ever committed. Not as long as the others were the biggest hypocrites themselves.  
No one seemed convinced.  
“Just sign this treaty and you'll get your independence and international recognition. That's all we want. And since it fits your ideal, too, then that signature should not be a problem,” England stated. He was obviously done with this discussion. Europe's problems clearly unnerved him to no end and he had already stated that he'd rather be off to his colonies.  
Poland pressed his lips together, his eyes still hard, but in the end had to do as told. It was not the first time he had been humiliated, this time at least the goal of freedom and independence was within reach.

 

Warsaw, 2nd February 1920

* * *

  
The Winter had been harsh this year and with the destroyed fields and cities there had been coldness and hunger. The General would not often come down all this way from the East, but war always intrigued the malicious spirit, made him daring, so he would extend his cold fingers all over Europe and made the nations shiver with frost and fear.  
Poland sat inside, next to the window, tracing the flowers General Winter had painted with ice. Even though the fire burned in the chimney Poland felt the frost and fear creep in his heart, clenching his lung. The General haunted his children, so as their nation, he was haunted, too.  
Dmowski cleared his throat audible to get his attention back.  
“I’ve done a lot for you in Versailles, but we need to keep working on your borders. Silesia is supposed to be yours and we need to convince the Great Powers to agree to that.”  
Dmowski was a determined man. He lead one of the most powerful parties and he was a sly politician that had waged the war on the political field in Versailles. Poland liked real battlefields way better – after more than a century deprived from actual political power and being reduced to the snippets of diplomacy Russia and the other partitioning powers had allowed him to use, he enjoyed the idea of a good old fight with a sword. Or rather gunfire, since it was the 20th century. But the notion was the same. He would rather beat the ass of Russia and especially Prussia into oblivion than buckling in front of the other nations and beg for recognition and land. But Dmowski had done a good job, so Poland was inclined to listen to him.  
“We need to be strong against Germany. They are a danger to our sovereignty,” Dmowski explained. He did not have to convince his nation on that topic. Poland had seen and felt what Prussia had done to him and his people. And the albino had raised an equally malicious boy to manhood. As a child without being a proper nation, the German boy had been a kindred spirit, full of hope and generousness. He even had some revolutionary tendencies and trustworthy included everyone, especially Poland, into his fantasy of a free world. Poland had liked him actually. But Prussia had spoiled this child, too, like he destroyed everything he touched.  
“I am well aware of the Germans,” Poland stated, his eyes flickering between the icy window and his politician. “I just don’t see what I can do about them.”  
“We can’t do anything alone. You need partners,” Dmowski stated. Poland had tried to form bonds, but England was already off to his beloved colonies and even though France was always gentle and welcoming, he had his own people to care for right now. America had been a true hero, using his fourteen points to demand Poland's freedom, but that was it. The western nation had returned to his land oversea and Europe was left as it was – meaning Russia, Prussia and Austria were real problems again. Even though all three had lost the war and even their empire, Poland didn’t trust the situation.  
The human seemed to notice Poland's distress, so he continued to explain his plan. “We can – and need to – cooperate with Russia.”  
That was definitely not an option. And Poland decided to tell the other this.  
“Never, totally not with this bastard!” he hissed, maybe with a little more force than necessary. But the idea itself was repugnant.  
“They have a revolution, Poland. Russia is not the same. We need to cooperate to secure your influence and border in the west, against Germany and Prussia.”  
“And therefore handing me on a plate to Russia?” Poland spat.  
“No, Poland, no. I would never let anyone harm you. You know that,” the other man was leaning forward now, his eyes fixed on his nation.  
“I need to protect you. Your language, religion and borders. I will always try to acquire this ideal.”  
Poland fell silent for a second.  
“Piłsudski doesn’t trust Russia and I definitely agree,” the blond stated.  
Dmowski immediately scowled.  
“That man is too bellicose, paranoid and stubborn for his own good,” the politician announced.  
Poland hissed sharply. “He did good in the war,” was all he said, his eyes hard. He did not like when people talked bad about his military leader, the one the soldiers and he, himself, had started to fondly call ‘Grandfather’.  
“No one did good in the war,” Dmowski disagreed quietly. He did not like to enrage his nation, but he was not known to keep his mouth shut. After all, that was his weapon, just like the firearms of the soldiers.  
“There were Poles fighting on all sides of the war, with and against each other. They fought for Germany, for Russia, they rebelled, committed treason and fought in the underground. That was a disaster”  
Poland averted his gaze again, pressing his hands tightly together. He did know that the war had been cruel to his people. He had not been there for them so they had held on to whatever hope they had, using their energy and lives to fight for him. He knew that the other nations had exploited this, had told sweet lies to catch his children. His children had not known better.  
He wished he could have changed that.  
“I need to be strong to protect my people against _them_ ,” he said, uttering the last word with so much hate that the meaning – the partitioning powers, maybe even all other nations – was quite clear.  
Dmowski sighed. They had a common ground, but he had hoped that his nation would understand the need for an ally. But he had enough time to convince him of this.

 

Somewhere in Galicia, 21st April 1920

* * *

  
Poland sat on the bench, his feet kicking the dust. The gun rested against his thigh, near enough to grab it in case of a threat. He did not think to be in immediate danger but one could never know. He had learned over the years not to let his guard down and now since he finally had become free, he would do anything to keep it that way. But he had made sure that not many people knew that he was here. Piłsudski always knew where he was, but no one else safe for his planned date, of course.  
Poland looked down the street in anticipation of his date. Ukraine was late, but Poland was not surprised. She had probably a lot in her mind and since Soviet Russia and his Red Army pushed at her borders she would have more pressing matters than being on time. Poland wondered whether she would come at all. But he didn't need to wait for too long, soon enough Ukraine was walking the street up to him. He could see her limp and a bandage was visible at her arm. Nonetheless, her face was straight and her hand gripped her gun tightly. Upon seeing him her eyes showed recognition, but no warm welcome. She stopped in front of him, leaning on her gun to support her bad leg.  
“What do you want?” she asked straight forward, her tone flat and not even angry, but reserved.  
Poland looked up to her. For a second he contemplated to get up so he would be on eye-level with her. But he decided against it and instead lounged in his seat. He forced an arrogant smirk on his face, fitting to his posture. He had observed it from Prussia who mastered that expression to near perfection and he knew that when used right it could infuriate any nation.  
“I wanted to talk to you,” the Pole stated, leaning back on the bench, taking in more space. It felt slightly foreign to him and good at the same time. He was not used to show dominance, not after more than a century deprived from any chance to see the sun, even less other nations. Before that he had been a mere child and had not cared to intimidate others. But now he had to. If he wanted to survive in this cruel world, he had to be stronger than the others and he was.  
“Yes? And what about?” now Ukraine's tone was biting, her patience was indeed running low.  
When Poland did not answer immediately, she continued, even more forcefully.  
“You just have convinced everyone of your greedy wish. They gave you everything you wanted!”  
Poland leaned forward, his shoulders suddenly tense.  
“That's not true,” he said quietly. He did not have everything he wanted, he never had. He wanted secure borders, wanted to protect his children and desperately longed for Lithuania. And neither did ‘they’, the Great Powers, provide. But Ukraine only bristled with anger.  
“No?” she nearly screamed. “You had the audacity to start a war with me and then they gave you my East Galicia for twenty-five years! Twenty-five years, Poland!”  
Poland thought that it may have been a bad idea to come and meet her so soon after their last war. She was way to agitated to discuss any matter seriously.  
After her outburst she stood there, trembling. Her big chest raised with heavy breaths. His continuing silence made her visibly uneasy. She calmed down and a desperate look replaced her anger.  
Poland scooted over on his bench and patted at the place next to him. She understood the gesture, but hesitated. In the end tiredness won and she sat down next to him, as far away as possible. She obviously did not trust him, but he could not blame her. Their war had ended not even half a year ago and she was still visibly distressed. Or maybe it was her brother bothering her, too.  
“Ukraine, I have nothing against you,” he said softly. She glared at him – such a very unusual expression for the naturally soft women – and said nothing. Yet, Poland had meant it like this. They had been at war over Galicia, but it was nothing personal against the other nation. It was just important to him to defend his citizens, to make sure that they were able to live with him, be part of himself. He could not make a compromise with Ukraine and her people. And that was exactly the topic he wanted to talk about.  
“I have a deal for you,” Poland said softly. “I see how you struggle against your brother and I can help you.”  
Ukraine frowned and kept silent, so the Pole continued.  
“I am strong, you've seen it yourself. I will assist you against him, make him retreat and leave you alone,” he said, leaning towards her. He needed her to understand, to take the bait. He knew he would be able to keep his promise. He just hoped she was as desperate as he thought she was.  
Ukraines mouth was set in a straight line. She considered his words.  
“And what would you gain?” she asked after a while.  
Poland did not know whether he should be happy about her being straight forward or insulted that she thought he would use this situation to his advantage. But in the end she was right. He had observed Russia and his army for a while now and had waited to offer his help as long as possible. He had known the conflict with her brother would drain her out and that this would make her favorable to his part of the deal. Poland disliked shady methods, but as far as his people were concerned, he would do anything. He would send them into a war that was not even his without hesitation if that meant he could secure more of his children under his care.  
“I help you if you give me East Galicja,” Poland announced. “You know I practically own it already, within two decades I will totally be able to form the area and people to my liking. In twenty-five years they will choose me over you. So why bother with it? Give Galicja to me, now and completely, and I’ll help you against the Red Army.”  
Ukraine just looked at him. He thought he could see hurt in her eyes.  
“You've waited for this,” she simply stated. Poland looked at her surprised, but she shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. “You waited to give me the last blow.”  
“That is not the case, I don't want to hurt you,” Poland insisted.  
But truth was, his people were more important than Ukraine. It was quite simple, to be honest. He knew no one would help her. The Allies had all turned away. America had started to lock himself up in his country, England had his eyes glued at his colonies oversee and France was just very paranoid about Germany. He was so fixated that he did not care about anything else. No one would look at them in the East of Europe, Poland had already noticed that during the last years. And that was precisely the reason for his offer. The Eastern Europeans had to help each other if they wanted to survive.  
Ukraine softly rocked forth and back on her seat, the sad smile still in place, looking at her hands. She had yet to give an answer to his offer, so Poland waited patiently.  
“Fine,” she simply said after what seemed like an eternity. “You won, Poland. You get your way.”  
The blond let out a breath he did not remember holding. That was very good.  
“Thank you,” he said softly. He felt the need to comfort the other but did not know how.  
Ukraine shook her head forcefully.  
“Don't thank me. I don't even have a real choice. Just promise me that you care for my people. Promise,” her voice broke.  
Poland just nodded.

 

Kiev, 7th May 1920

* * *

  
He was marching besides his men. They had put flowers into their gun barrels and did anything to appear friendly and appeasing to the people of Kiev. Ukraine had welcomed him and his men to fight the Red Army. He had thought that the people would cheer at them since they were about to free them from Russian oppression. Wasn't that what they longed for? Poland remembered that his people had always cheered for him and his brave soldiers. But the Ukrainians in Kiev were silent upon the arrival of the friendly army and this startled Poland a lot.  
The female nation turned up at his side as soon as they entered the city. She was dressed in her military uniform and greeted him with a nod. She seemed composed in comparison to the last time they had met. Upon seeing his frown she seemed to understand.  
“Don't take it personal,” she whispered in his direction. “The city and its people have seen four armies within the last three years. The Tsar had been here, the Germans, the White and Red Army retrospectively. They just can't warm up for another one, even if they declare their friendship and help.” Poland caught her apologetic glance.  
“And if you are honest, you are not here to be a dear friend,” she added.  
Poland did not comment on that. Who was going to endanger their own children with sending them to a war just because of friendship or care for a foreign nation? No one would, at least no one sane. He certainly had no people to spare. But he still had hoped that some kind of companionship would be elicited. At least, they were fighting a common enemy and such usually lead to close relationships. He was in need of an ally, one he could trust on or even was on good terms with whose mind was not constantly distracted like England and France were. And fighting Russia while gathering allies seemed like a good start.

 

Warsaw, 2nd July 1920

* * *

  
_"To the West! Over the corpse of White Poland lies the road to worldwide conflagration. March upon Vilnius, Minsk, Warsaw! Onward to Berlin over the corpse of Poland!"_  
Poland crumbled the sheet of paper in his hands. How dare the Soviet commander to threaten him like that. To think that they could kill him, the phoenix, was hilarious. Russia had picked on him long enough. He was done with being the weaker, being occupied, being beaten and burned. Now _he_ would rise. _He_ would burn them all.

 

Warsaw, 18th August 1920

* * *

  
He was gaining ground. The Red Army was retreating. The phoenix would win.  
“You are doing great,” Marshal Piłsudski said, smiling at his nation.  
Poland beamed a smile at him, glowing due to the compliment.  
“We need to secure the eastern borders. Don’t stop. The Curzon line was dismissed by Soviet Russia and neither are we going to accept it. You can do better.”  
“Yes, grandfather!” Poland agreed. With his leader he would definitely do better. He would get his old Commonwealth back. And with it Lithuania at his side. It was about time.  
But instead of cheering Lithuanians, the Polish troops were greeted with gunpowder and fire. The Lithuanian troops had secured the territory the Poles had left while retreating from the Red Army a mere month ago. And now they were fighting to keep every square meter.  
“Traitors!” Poland hissed.  
“They claim they have a Soviet-Lithuanian Peace Treaty that entitles them to hold these areas,” the commandant explained to his furious nation, his brows furrowed in concern. But Poland would have non of that.  
“If they defend the occupied land then they are a Soviet ally,” he stated. It was quite clear, wasn’t it? The Lithuanian troops were traitors. They had sided with the enemy against him. He needed to get to Lithuania. His former husband would not let this injustice continue if he knew of the plans for a new Commonwealth. Lithuania would put an end to these fights.  
The blond closed his eyes for a moment and forced his feeling of betrayal down. Sometimes people err. He needed to get to Lithuania and for that he needed a clear head.  
“If some of the Polish troops mutinied then there would be a possibility to march to Wilno without an international scandal,” Piłsudski suddenly said. “After all there are Poles in this area and they need our protection.” Poland focused on his leader. The need to protect his people tightened his chest. And that way, he would be able to meet Lithuania, to tell him of his idea for a Commonwealth, to convince him to lay down his weapons and to marry him again. After all, what else were they supposed to do?  
The plan included general Żeligowski and in the end of November Wilno belonged to Poland. However, Lithuania did not.

 

Lviv, 25th September 1921

* * *

  
Poland was furious. This Ukrainian had tried to kill his leader! How dare he? They were all traitorous, unworthy, disloyal and dangerous people. He needed to get rid of them somehow, else they would probably kill even himself!  
“Don't be angry at them,” Piłsudski said softly.  
Poland immediately looked at him, mentally and physically reaching out. His leader had been nearly killed, how could he be so calm?  
“They fight for what they think is right,” the old soldier continued. “You have to accept and understand that, if you want their approval one day. You have to find a way for them to like you.”  
Poland nodded. He knew. He had fought against oppression for so long himself. But it was a completely different situation now! His safety and that of his people and leader was in question. And he did not know what to offer the Ukrainians under his care. His people spoke Polish and were Catholics. The Ukrainians did neither and did not like his victorious army unlike the rest of his people.  
“I'm sure you'll find a way to convince them. They just need to be good citizens. Don't ask too much of them,” Piłsudski explained. “We just need them to be loyal.”

 

Vilnius, 7th April 1922

* * *

  
Poland ran his hands through brown hair and exhaled softly. His body arched, longed for the other. He leaned forward to press Lithuania into the sheets. The other complied easily, his hair spread over the white fabric like a crown. The green eyes were dark with lust.  
Poland chuckled and straddled the other man. He relished every touch, his tights and fingers tingled where they felt Lithuania's body heat. He needed more contact, more skin to roam. He leaned down to kiss the other and Lithuania met him welcoming.  
He had missed this so much.  
Without breaking the kiss, his hands started to work on Lithuania's shirt, opening button after button. The other melted into the touch, his chest vibrating softly from a suppressed sigh. When hands tugged at the rim of his own shirt, Poland smiled and finally broke the kiss to take his shirt off. He let it fall carelessly on the floor, something Lithuania would usually scold him for if he would not be so preoccupied with the blond above him. Lithuania's hands made their way from Poland's hips upwards to his belly, chest and back to the tights, leaving a trail of goose bumps. They finally set on his belt, opening it smoothly.  
Poland smiled, leaning down again. He would not give up his precious spot above Lithuania in favor of getting rid of his trousers. Not right now.  
Instead, he started to suck on Lithuania's neck, alternatively kissing and licking, eliciting a favorable reaction from the brunette. Between the increasing frequencies of the moans Poland could hear his name, softly, like a precious prayer.

With a jolt Poland woke up. His breathing came hard, his eyes unable to adjust to the darkness of the room. It had been so bright, so warm mere seconds ago. Confusion crossed his mind. His skin still tingled where it had been touched, but the sheets were cold, the room empty. He sat up, leaning against the bed-head, calming down his breathing. The darkness flooded all his senses and he curled into himself, hugging his knees tightly against his chest. With the darkness reality came flooding back. He knew that Lithuania hadn’t been here, hadn’t touched him, because the last time they did their hands had been red with blood. Lithuania's blood.  
Tears came, however, Poland willed them down. He would not be weak. He could not. His body and mind desperately longed for Lithuania but he could not give in to the desperation it caused. He had done everything possible, yet, the other had rejected him.  
Yesterday, Wilno and the areas around it had been incorporated to his land. It belonged to him now, formally and officially. But Lithuania did not. The other nation had withdrawn himself, had accused him, Poland of all people, to commit a crime, to forcefully steal land. The League of Nations tried to mediate, but what would they do? Poland needed to protect his people and wanted, maybe even needed, Lithuania. The other refused any contact and claimed that Wilno was still his capital, his heart, and that there was no way he recognized its incorporation into Polish territory.  
Even under the occupation and suppression from the partitions, Poland had never felt so lonely before.

 

Warsaw, 6th May 1925

* * *

  
He had been feeling unwell for the last years. After the wars the constitution had followed and he had thought that he finally was safe and strong enough.  
As a military leader Piłsudski had retreated from the political stage and made room for various politicians.  
Poland had thought that it would be only a matter of time until his minorities would honor his effort and his people would calm down, settle into normality. That he would be able to form alliances and maybe even a Commonwealth again, since the other Eastern nations would realize that they would be better off at his side and that they all would be growing stronger together, with his lead.  
But then the depression hit and with it hyperinflation came. His governments changed with an increasing degree – no one seemed to know what to do, how to help him. His economy was in shambles, the public in unrest due to the poverty and unemployment. He was heading directly to an economic crisis without anyone to stop it. He felt sick.  
Fighting for his freedom had been easier than calculating money and food. Motivating his children to fight had always lifted his spirit, but the increasing chaotic political and economical situation did not inspire any glorious speeches. What could he say to the poor and hungry? To the lost and desperate? They did not want freedom, they already had it. And yet they still suffered. You can not raise a sword or point a gun at hunger and coldness. That was no glorious fight, but a long and enduring task.  
He was desperate for help.  
Then Piłsudski came back and put an end to it.

 

Warsaw, 14th May 1925

* * *

  
"You said no one would be hurt, that no one would be killed! You promised!" Poland screamed desperately and blinded by sadness. The Marshal had prepared to overthrow the recent Polish government. A coup. But he had promised that it would go well. Poland coughed. He fell to his knees, weeping. More than thousand of his children had to suffer, they were hurt or killed. Hundreds of civilians and brave soldiers were dead. His beloved children. Their blood was spilled on his soil, by those who were his, whom he had trusted.  
"It is going to be all right,” the Marshal said softly, wrapping Poland carefully in a blanked and lifting him up, carrying the blond in his arms. "Forgive me, I had hoped that there would be no blood shed,” he explained to his sobbing nation. "I don't want you hurt."  
He cradled the blond like a child until he would fall asleep, trusting his commandant to keep him safe, to end all the suffering.  
And he did, for a while.

 

Warsaw, Belweder Palace, 12th May 1935

* * *

  
Everyone was expressing condolences. Even opponents of the leading party had warm words and one of Piłsudski strongest enemies, Dmowski, had only mild critique. The pope had called him personally, and so Poland had listened dutiful, but had not said a word. His minorities for once cried besides his own ethnic Poles, praising the deceased.  
At least some of them were. There were Jewish, Ukrainian and even German organizations that raised their voice against the deceased commandant just to spite him. Poland would not forgive them for disturbing his mourning.  
He touched the coffin. He did not know what to do without him. There was still so much work to do, borders to secure, minorities to persuade, foreign leaders to satisfy, politicians to lead, enemies to defy. How was he supposed to do this on his own? Piłsudskis regime would surely try to stay in power, to keep their government going like they had for the last ten years. In fact, the First Marshal had not officially been the leader of his nation, at least not as a president. But in reality he had been way more, his influence had been all-encompassing. His care had coddled Poland, he had felt safe.  
"He was the king of our hearts and the sovereign of our will. During a half-century of his life's travails, he captured heart after heart, soul after soul, until he had drawn the whole of Poland within the purple of his royal spirit ... He gave Poland freedom, boundaries, power and respect,” the president said at the funeral. Poland only remained silent. The pain and suffering crept back into his heart.

 

Lviv, 18th August 1936

* * *

  
The Jews were a severe problem. Ten percent of his population were Jewish and the large majority was completely hostile or at least apathetic towards him. They undermined his authority every time they could. They had started with the Minority Treaty back in 1919 and continued to do so now. He suspected them to have been worked with Prussia during the World War, then they had sided with Ukraine and later with the Bolshevist. Now they tried to force Zionism and declared Palestine as their true home. If they would only leave, then that would be fine. But _no_ , they would not. They rather stayed. They where the enemies within. They questioned his every step and told everything the international press. So many lies. Then other nations would come to his door, demanding explanations for some repressions and deaths he did not even cause! Sometimes these things had not even happened and always the other nations were so much misinformed! They just did not understand.  
The Jews were simply disloyal, there was no chance he would let them into his public service or military or even his state run business. They would screw everything up!  
Yes, his universities had started to use a numerus clausus for Jewish students and told them to sit at certain benches during the lectures, but they should stop whining! It was not like they were not able to pursue a higher education. They just whined about everything and usually exaggerated their problems! They were hurting themselves with their lack to cooperate.  
Even his bishops saw this threat and preached about it in the churches. The Jews enforced amoral behavior, atheism, white slavery and prostitution in his Catholic cities.  He simply wished that they were just loyal citizens like his own Catholic, ethnic Poles.

 

Luzk, 14th September 1937

* * *

  
Poland sighed. He did not understand those Ukrainians. Why would they not agree? Why did they have to rebel? Every time he lifted restrictions on them, they organized, protested. They held speeches, insulted him, even attacked him physically. Its been a painful fight for control in Wołyń and East Galicja. It threatened his well being, his survival even. First, he had tried to convince them to be part of him, to assimilate, to be good citizens. When that did not work, he had started to build roads and infrastructure. With modernization would come loyalty, he had thought. The Ukrainians disregarded all his efforts completely. So he had started to strip them of their rights, to restrict their autonomy, their free speech. It did not help, they were stubborn crying for Ukraine to help them. Did they not know that he had come to an agreement with her? That she was captured by her brother by now, not able to make her own decisions, not even able to help herself. How would she be able to care for her people? The people should be able to see that! He would be able to care for them, to protect them. They just needed to be loyal and be Polish! That was not too much asked for!

 

Warsaw, 5th October 1938

* * *

  
He knew how to get rid of his problems. He needed colonies. England was opposed to this, of course, but this demand was necessary. He desperately needed to have a colony. They demonstrated ones status as a Great Power, therefore, he anyway was entitled to have one. And he required resources for his economy and people. And he had severe overpopulation, he had to acquire land overseas to ease this problem. And of course these colonies would also provide a good solution for his Jewish problem. He would be able to solve all that with one single demand.  
And with the resolving of the Jewish problem, the economy would rise, social peace would settle, his people would be safe again. He did not see how England and the others would not agree to this. It was perfect and so easy. They just had to give him some land. Maybe an island? Like, Madagascar seemed to be so perfect. France already had reluctantly agreed that Poland could visit his island and he had. Poland was sure that he could ship a lot, at least the majority, maybe even all Jews to this colony. That would solve all his problems. No more enemies within.

Then the war came. And with it came unknown horrors and destruction.

**Author's Note:**

> Names: Most of the areas and cities have more than one name since they belonged to more than one ethnic (and therefore language) during history. As a result I used their English names in the headlines together with the date, but of course Poland is using his names for these areas. Naming is an important part of ownership, so using certain names would be important during this time when more than one nation claimed ownership of these areas.  
> Vilnius (Lithuanian) = Wilno (Polish), the Lithuanian capital nowadays.  
> Galicia = Galicja (Polish), not the area in Spain but an historical and geographic region in Central Europe, nowadays belonging partly to modern Poland and Ukraine  
> Wołyń (Polish) = Volhynia, the area north-east of East Galicia.
> 
> Piłsudski is kind of the father of the Polish nation due to his role during the first World War and the battles of the Polish borders and his coup. I have the impression that Piłsudski was and is deeply loved by the Poles. Surprisingly, I never heard a bad word about him, not even from historians who ought to have a critical view on people like him. I personally think he is a highly complex and ambivalent person. I tried to portray him as best as I could and to capture Poland's awe and utter trust for him at the same time.
> 
> About Ukraine: The war between Poland and Ukraine was ended in June 1919, in November the Peace Conference declared that East Galicia would belong to Poland for 25 years. After that a referendum should be held. As you see here, Piłsudski and Petljura agreed on a Polish-Ukrainian alliance against the Red Army and therefore dismissed this referendum. It didn’t help Ukraine much, btw.
> 
> About Russia: I quoted the Soviet commander Mikhail Tukhachevsky who lead the Red Army against Poland. The Polish-Soviet War was from 1919 to 1921 and resulted in new borders in East Europe. It did not just affect Poland and Russia, but also Lithuania and Ukraine, for example (as you see in this fic because both fought with and against Poland and Russia, depending on who claimed to protect their borders against foreign invasion). At the same time there was civil war in Russia between the Red and White fraction, thus adding to the mixture of chaos and desperation.
> 
> About Lithuania: On October 8, 1920, the Polish general Lucjan Żeligowski staged a mutiny among Polish troops and marched on Vilnius. This was authorized by Piłsudski and resulted in the creation of the “Republic of Central Lithuania” which later was incorporated into Poland and turned into the Wilno Voivodeship (the League of Nations accepted this in 1923). The reason for this occupation was that the majority of people living in this area were ethnic Poles or Jews, while the newly formed Lithuania claimed Vilnius as its historical capital. As a result, Lithuania refused any diplomatic contact. I think Poland as a personification must have suffered a lot, even though I personally can’t really blame Lithuania here.  
> I definitely have to write some happy fluff between the two of them one day and not just suffering and make-out sessions in Poland's dreams or memories…  
> I did not describe their meeting in 1920 here, because I already have in the fic “Meeting Again” (part two of this series).
> 
> About the Jews: That is a highly discussed topic. Keep in mind that this story is Poland's point of view. Historians like Stachura defend Poland's actions during this time, but most historians like Reder, Melzer, Holzer, Polonsky and others do state that Poland (society and politicians) is acting very illogical and paranoid and definitely increasingly anti-Semitic during the interwar period. Since that is not Poland's own opinion during that time (and even nowadays not so much), I could not present these parts properly, but I tried to illustrate his increasingly paranoid stance (against all his minorities) and possible points that illuminate his growing anti-Semitic tendencies. Nonetheless, Antisemitism in Poland during that time was very different from what happened in Germany at the same time, mostly because the latter was mainly about race, while Poland had a more archaic, middle-age touch of religious discrimination. Don’t forget that Poland is and was a very religious country and therefore objects to racism and killing people way more than Nazi-Germany did.


End file.
